70 STKAWBEERIES. 



little cognizance of grosser foods, come forth, and are 

 played upon and set vibrating. Indeed, I think, if 

 there is ever rejoicing throughout one's alimentary 

 household, if ever that much-abused servant, the 

 stomach, says Amen, or those faithful handmaidens, 

 the liver and spleen, nudge each other delightedly, it 

 must be when one on a torrid summer day passes by 

 the solid and carnal dinner for this simple Arcadian 

 dish. 



The wild strawberry, like the wild apple, is spicy 

 and high-flavored, but, unlike the apple, it is also 

 mild and delicious. It has the true rustic sweetness 

 and piquancy. What it lacks in size, when compared 

 with the garden berry, it makes up in intensity. It 

 is never dropsical or overgrown, but firm-fleshed and 

 hardy. Its great enemies are the plow, gypsum, and 

 the horse-rake. It dislikes a limestone soil, but seems 

 to prefer the detritus of the stratified rock. Where 

 the sugar-maple abounds, I have always found plenty 

 of wild strawberries. We have two kinds, the wood 

 berry and the field berry. The former is as wild as 

 a partridge. It is found in open places in the woods 

 and along the borders, growing beside stumps and 

 rocks, never in abundance, but very sparsely. It is 

 small, cone-shaped, dark red, shiny, and pimply. It 

 looks woody, and tastes so. It has never reached 

 the table, nor made the acquaintance of cream. A 

 quart of them, at a fair price for human labor, would 

 be worth their weight in silver, at least. (Yet a care- 

 ful observer writes me that in certain sections in 



